


Idle Conversations

by Chillatrix



Series: Umbra Witches AU [2]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Aunt Goldie, Dialogue Heavy, Family Feuds, Gen, Gladstone isn’t an asshole, Not Scrooge Friendly, Out of Character Gladstone Gander, Takes place during 10 year separation, Umbra Witches AU, but they’re kind of trash because of Trauma, mentioned crossdressing, neither is Goldie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chillatrix/pseuds/Chillatrix
Summary: A night intended for intel gives Goldie a little less insight on Scrooge McDuck’s sudden retirement of adventure.//although it belongs to my Umbra Witches AU, it can be read as an OOC stand-alone <3
Relationships: Gladstone Gander & Scrooge McDuck, Gladstone Gander & “Glittering” Goldie O’Gilt, Scrooge McDuck/"Glittering" Goldie O'Gilt, Scrooge McDuck/“Glittering” Goldie O’Gilt (implied)
Series: Umbra Witches AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016466
Kudos: 12





	Idle Conversations

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick test as to how I want to write Gladstone in this AU. also he wears a dress, because I think he likes all fancy clothes rather than just liking suits.
> 
> And he’s very OOC, so <:) bear with me

Tonight is a night Goldie would deem... _uneventful._

Sure, the secrecy of her desire would be enough to fuel her through a night of drinking and posh citizens dancing around themselves, but it was soon dwindling down. Unfortunately, she needed to stay.

Intel wasn’t trustworthy unless you got it yourself, after all. You never know what grapes are poison on the vine.

So she’s out on the balcony, looking down at the city and wishing that the night would go faster so she can make her move. The winds are warm and mild, blowing in at random but never becoming annoying.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” someone asks behind her.

Goldie is more than happy to tell this guy to screw off, but she stops as she looks at him.

It’s a goose with curled feathers and a green dress. His beak is curled in a polite smile, a smile she can place way too easily.

“Long time, no see, kid,” Goldie smiles back. “How’s life been treating you?”

Gladstone Gander leans on the rail alongside her, sighing. “Oh, same as it was the last time we met. Always the one-hundredth customer, always the special guest...”

“Woe is you.”

He smiles, used to her teasing. “Woe is me,” he agrees softly.

“Suppose you’re here with your uncle? How is the old bastard, by the by?”

“Would you believe me if I said I’m here alone?” Gladstone hums. “I was invited by someone who owed me, said this was a perfect chance to repay me. And I believe he’s rotting away in that bin of his. To hell with him, anyways.”

“Ouch,” Goldie smirks, leaning on her hand as she turns to the younger. “What could he do to piss off such a kind soul like you?”

It was a lie, of course, to think that either of them were kind. Rarely, had their paths crossed, but always was it in the face of danger. Goldie wanted something, Gladstone and his cousins stopped her, (alongside Scrooge, but Gander hated thinking about him, especially after the falling out), rinse and repeat.

They stand for a moment.

“Rotting away, huh,” Goldie continues, not really wanting an answer to her previous question. Dare he say, she was worried for that sad sack of feathers. “You gettin’ anything in the will?”

“Same as what _you’re_ getting,” he laughs with her.

“But if I could be a little frank here... What _did_ happen to you? From what I hear, you ‘adventuring’ types always stuck together. Like some kind of damned superglue...”

Gladstone’s smirk turns a bit stiff. “Yes, but even superglue wears off. Not right away, but... eventually.”

“Can’t help but notice you’re avoiding the question.”

“Maybe you don’t need the answer.”

Goldie turns to him fully, slightly narrowing her eyes. “And suddenly you’re all-knowing?”

“You’d be surprised,” was all he said.

And if Goldie had half a mind to sense the danger, she’d leave well enough alone on this topic. From the suddenly tense stance the younger was taking, he was alert to any tricks she may pull, yet the slightly fiddling of his dress skirt told her that he wasn’t sure of what it was, and was therefore nervous.

God, how she loved her attentiveness.

“So surprise me,” she insists. “I’ve a right to know about Scroogie just as much as you do.”

“Oh?” Gladstone is teasing her, she can tell so easily. (Partly because he wasn’t bothering to hide it.) “And why is that?”

“Ain’t I your dear old Aunt Goldie?”

Much to her relief, he laughs brightly. “Suppose you are. But this is an answer you’d do well enough without. He’s rotting away, and here you are looking for the next big score. You’re _better_ than him, Goldie.”

“...I think someone might’ve hit your head a little too hard.”

“Suppose they have,” Gladstone shrugs. “But you care so much for him, even bullying one of his nephews to get the 411 on his state of being...”

Goldie tries to defend herself, say something like it’s just idle curiosity, that she could honestly care _less_ for the old coot, but Gladstone quickly cuts her off by staring deep into her eyes, a sad look slowly bleeding into the dark green.

“It may be in a woman’s nature to fall into the arms of men she knows are cruel,” he starts softly, slowly taking Goldie’s hand into his own, “but this time, my dear, you have fallen into the arms of the  _worst man alive.”_

Then, he lets go, walking back inside to mingle with the highbrow community.

But before he goes too far from her, Gladstone looks back, staring at the floor, “Keep in touch, Aunt Goldie. I’d hate to think he’s gotten his claws deep in you.”

And Goldie stays there, stunned as she looks at what he left in her hand. It’s a small pocket watch, the engraving similar to the one the goose often wore when they had seen one another. A four-leaf clover in bronze.

It’s nothing special, but she can feel the importance of it... somehow. Sentimental-wise, at least; she knew for certain that Gladstone wasn’t an adventuring type.

He was just too much like her.

“...Maybe it’s not _Scrooge’s_ claws you need to worry about,” she says softly, knowing there’s no one around her to hear.

**Author's Note:**

> y’know what kind of irks me in the reboot? we don’t get to see much of the family drama regarding Della’s disappearance. You can’t tell me that Gladstone and Fethry wouldn’t take Donald’s side in the argument, (even if Gladdy and Donny hate each other smxjsbxj)
> 
> but that’s enough ranting from me!
> 
> tumblr: im-crackshell67


End file.
